


Saturnalia

by DucklingExtravaganza



Category: Persona 5
Genre: As I could, Christmas cheer!, Implied angst with a hopeful ending?, M/M, implied metaverse machinations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:49:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21954673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DucklingExtravaganza/pseuds/DucklingExtravaganza
Summary: Ren and Goro celebrate Christmas (to the best of their abilities).
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 1
Kudos: 20
Collections: Shuake SS Gift Exchange 2019





	Saturnalia

**Author's Note:**

> This Fic is dedicated to @In0tteri who asked for presents/metaverse/ a ton of Christmas cheer! I did my best to compress them all in this Fic (and could have gone a little overboard...). I’m so glad I got to be your secret Santa and I hope you enjoy!! :D

Even when he had seen it a million times and memorized every little detail of his unfamiliar pace in the thousand hours he had played the same game over and over again— searching a what, a who, a when or a why— Ren knew he could never predict Goro’s svelte step. They had this game, both of them, where they would walk around town searching for one another without meaning to, where Goro would be attentive to a black mess of birdnest hair and Ren would jump of joy at the sight of an ugly argyle sweater vest. Ren thought that after years of being the same year and obsessing with only one boy he’d have an advantage playing, of knowing Goro’s every move just by sheer force of repetition, and yet Goro would win every time, always pleasant, always strict, always a corpse on the floor by November, always one step ahead. 

It had turned into a problem by year 5, when Ren had noticed that maybe his weird crush on the detective prince— who he thought laid dead among the countless body count of the high school hitman— had come back to haunt him for a second (now fifth) round of darts in this game of a full life in a single year. Because even thought Ren had seen Goro die four times now— the third one drowning on the ocean of the lost ones instead of shot, that had been an exciting plot twist— he still blushed embarrassingly red at the genuine laugh of the detective after a nice cup of coffee and the story of one of many Ren’s dumb shenanigans. 

One of the things he regretted most on year 5— and every year before that, but unconsciously up until that point— was Christmas. This year Haru had been the lucky girl to spend Christmas with him— which was horrible, when Rent thought about it, his female friends were not a commodity, but the same year got so tiring after a while… could he be excused for wanting to try every option out? Maybe he should just stick to Ryuji.

It was nice, surely, Haru was sweet and so was her chocolate, yes, it tasted slightly like strawberry privilege and not at all like Futaba’s inexperienced homemade ones or Makoto’s expensive orange, but it was still very good. What came out of Ren’s mouth though, wasn’t a compliment when he got to formulate it in his mouth between strawberry and sweet words to his current girlfriend: 

“Have you ever heard of coffee flavored chocolate?” 

Haru had responded that no, she hadn’t; but by then Ren’s mind wasn’t in his mouth or his head, it was at the bottom of the sea with Goro Akechi still in that boat and still so dead even though he’d been so alive and drinking coffee no more than 3 months prior. 

Time passing was a cruel thing. Ren wondered if Goro would have liked coffee flavored chocolate, if he would have made his own chocolates have their own coffee flavor, if Ren was the one expected to make the chocolates this time around. That could have been fun.

So at the start of year 6 Ren had decided that he was going to spend Christmas with his one constant love whenever fate wanted it or not— November be damned— and have a great time with Goro in a Christmas party. It was going to be fucking amazing. They would kiss under mistletoe.

The only problem was the eleventh month of the year who refused to let Goro go of it’s metaphorical claws shaped like a shutter in a boat and a ton of bad decisions that by July Ren understood could no longer be avoided. Better luck next time; but the objective wasn’t to save Goro this year— Ren told himself after another panic attack on his bedroom when he realized it was, oh, way too late to do anything— it was to spend Christmas with him.

Which was enough reason for Goro’s phone to be dialed the 10th of November with a cryptic message from his murder target at 4am: “Tomorrow come at night to LeBlanc, I need to talk to you, bring a present.” And nothing else. 

Which made it even more infuriating when Ren messaged him once again, but now on a text.

Joker:  Oh, can you bring coffee flavored chocolate? 

Whatever the hell that means, Goro sincerely had no idea, but it wasn’t the first time his objective had acted strangely and it wouldn’t be the last— or maybe it would, he didn’t have many days left after all— so he made a reminder on his phone, took a few minutes not to let the indignity ruin his beauty sleep, then conked out because it had been a long day of being a high school detective/hitman.

Goro dreamt of coffee, guns, chocolate and the strangely sweet taste of the aftermath of those on his mouth. They all made the shape of only one boy, of course, it was familiar. It was comforting, too, somehow, he was accustomed to that prophetic dream. 

Goro decided to change his walk schedule once again in the morning, no particular reason, just because.

  
  


* * *

Goro reflected the morning after that what Ren did was really fucking rude, calling unannounced in the middle of the night line that, who did he think he was? Did he think he was entitled to Goro’s time? He was, of course, part of Goro’s mission was lending Ren enough time to build some makeshift trust, the bad part was when Ren acted like he knew that. But as for now, and for those same reasons, it was important to be polite and nice and all that jazz—despite Loki’s very loud and feral internal protests— so the Phantom Thieves wouldn’t suspect a thing. 

It didn’t mean a thing that a bothersome part of Goro’s psyche was actually excited to spend more time with Ren before his demise. Probably a side effect of a prolonged murder plan not recorded in any books for very obvious reasons. 

Ren, while making the necessary preparations in the morning, knew he was being fucking rude, but after convincing himself not to spiral into the belief that he was a modern day god with the power to control fate at will without consequences, had declared that Goro’s actual life was more important than whatever schedule he may have had for that day. (And what could that even be? Wake up at 9am and be evil until noon? Then head to LeBlanc and still be evil in front of Joker, but be flirty and cute while doing it.) 

Morgana had said not a good idea, Futaba had said what the fuck are you thinking about, Sojiro just gave him a disappointed look and left Ren to his devices without looking up back again from the paper he wasn’t really reading, and even then, when Goro said I’m here that was the only voice that mattered. 

“So what’s the plan?” Goro asked after the polite greetings. He was well dressed and had two wrapped boxes on his hands. Ren’s heart melted a little thinking about how he took the time to fetch the perfect gift, maybe wrapped it himself and despite the short notice, put all his effort into coming up with something that Ren would like.

His heart froze again at the cold reminder that Goro was doing all of this as a façade to keep the Phantom Thieves oblivious to his more devious plans, but that was okay, cold was what they needed: “Surprise Christmas Party.” 

Goro was almost impressed. “What.” 

“Surprise Christmas Party.” Ren repeated. 

“I heard you. I meant—” that was a good expression, the fight between keeping up his polite demeanor and calling Ren out on his bizarre bullshit, Ren would have to do this more often, maybe next year “we are both aware it’s currently November, right?” 

“Yeah, so?” 

God, what the fuck “...Christmas is a December celebration.”

“Says who?” 

“Tradition, usually.” 

“Well, whose tradition?”  this fucking asshole!

This was Goro’s time to shine. “Well, you’d know that Christian tradition defines this date as the birth of Jesus Christ, but in reality, nobody knows the exact date of that event. December was chosen because it coincided with the dates of both Saturnalia and Yule, pagan celebrations that the Christians adapted to expand their doctrine.” He said, that smug tone of I’m better than you at random useless trivia that was so embedded in their flirting. “That’s also where a ton of the traditions come from: Santa, turkey, fireplaces and mistletoe are all pagan in origin.” 

Ren wasn’t blown away by this random display of cultural facts nobody else cared about and that hurt Goro’s ego, just a little. “Yes, I know that. But Akechi, are you a Christian?”

“...no.” Not since the fourth orphanage, anyway.

“Or a Roman? Norse? Pagan?” 

“No I’m not. What’s your point?”

“Then you have no tradition against the Surprise Christmas Party.” 

Jesus  fuck .

“...guess not.”  Fuck  this succubus of circular arguments. Goro didn’t have the freedom to tell him how fucking idiotic he was being without making it evident that he wanted his head on a plate. 

“Then, onwards!” Ren ‘smug little dipshit’ declared pointing to the stairs towards the attic. 

Goro swore to god he was going to have a stroke if he walked up the stairs and the whole Phantom Thieves were there in dumb Christmas sweaters ready to offer him gingerbread cookies and other Christmas-related baked goods. Which made both his relief and confusion bigger when he couldn’t even phantom the smell of Christmas Joy— as defined by those scented candles they sell at the American stores— going upstairs and worse, when he actually carried his mentally exhausted body to the second floor he was greeted by the song of no greeting at all, just the familiar dust of the dirty attic and the rare addition of two wrapped boxes sitting atop of Ren’s shitty attic makeshift ‘bed’. Goro’s disappointment at the lack of production was palpable. 

Cold head, Goro Akechi, you’re nice, you’re pleasant, you’re patient and everybody loves you, smile like you mean it, c’mon, don’t let him know you want to put a bullet through his head,  smile  like you want to put a bullet through his head, do like you always do in front of the cameras. “Ren, where are the others?”

“There are no others.”

“Ah.” 

Ren grabbed the two presents nonchalantly and took out his phone without bothering to explain what he was doing while Goro tried his best to stand levels of rudeness never experienced before. He was about to politely refuse Ren’s invitation to what was clearly a plan to get back to him for being a lying rat and blackmailing his way into the Phantom Thieves, maybe Ren would include a little ironic kidnapping to show him what it was like, and then humiliate him with convoluted excuses and nonsense talk, just to mess him up good.

That didn’t happen, though, because before Goro could open his mouth to protest this clearly evil plan— yet no more evil than his own— he was feeling the familiar motion sickness of disappearing from the real world into the metaverse, his real clothes shifting into his princely outfit and his confusion unaltered by the tide of transformation. 

Sae’s casino palace was as splendid as ever, the long queue of people waiting to enter the colossal mausoleum was as still as ever, the metaphor of VIP privilege masking the fact that only a few chosen had enough importance to have actual access to justice as kept being as accurate as ever, not that Goro believed in justice beyond the one done by one’s own hand, but the uselessness of having to wait an eternal line for a fair trial seemed more than appropriate. 

After steps one and two for the scientific question of ‘what the fuck Joker thinks he’s doing?’— the hypothesis being ‘trying to fuck with me, obviously’— Goro proceeded to step three to his investigation: experiment. 

‘What the fuck do you think you’re doing?’ sounded too harsh, so Goro went with “Joker, excuse me, but why are we here? You know our deadline is the 18th.”

Ren, completely aware that was Goro’s bullshit excuse to work on the tight schedule of his own murder didn’t even bother to be ironic: “Celebrating Christmas, of course.” 

Seeing Goro so clearly internally screaming with that frozen polite smile of his was certainly a delight, both the sweet delight you get from teasing your crush with a surprise birthday celebration and the exquisite citric taste of revenge of pissing off someone who has murdered you five times already, going for the sixth. Overall Ren didn’t feel bad at all, it was kind of poetic in the contradiction of the sense, plus he was sure Goro would like the Christmas party and if not, he would at least  adore his gift. 

“Let’s go, Crow.” He said, already heading for the VIP entrance that the Phantom Thieves had made for themselves with the air vents at the right. 

The path was as usual, precise and elegant pirouettes done with the facility only an athlete of the mind can achieve, a jump done with imagination or cognition or force of will or presumptuousness. But unlike the other times the door opened on its own from the inside this time. 

“Please, come on in.” said Goro’s own voice without him having to even open his mouth from where he was standing. “It’s always nice to see you.” Goro from behind the door smiled to Joker, his eyes shining with the mysterious light of things that cannot possibly be real. 

With the aftertaste of the uncanny valley of hearing his own voice come from someone else still on his mouth, Goro locked eyes with the other Goro— this one dressed in a clearly Christmas-themed smoking suit, with reds, greens and whites making the elegant composition that made Goro think he smelled of cinnamon, cardamom, clove and gingerbread without ever getting close to him— and cringed at the reproduction of his own TV smile done sincerely. No way Sae would know how much lies he hid within, but her thinking of him as someone who smiled sincerely, even sometimes, disappointed him more than he would have liked to admit.

“Follow me.” The cognitive double said with a pleasant voice that was almost as elegant as the frolic he did to guide them both to a new location.

Following Joker who followed the cognitive double like they were old friends who had planned this for months— which was impossible, the times didn’t add up— was frustrating in a way that made Goro scold himself for thinking ‘wasn’t this supposed to be  my Christmas celebration?’ and falling into Ren’s honestly bizarre charm. He made a note to remember this as fuel in the improbable case he ever felt doubtful about shooting him and then quickly discarded that note into the metaphorical trash with the fleeting thought that maybe that would only make his trigger finger shake even more when the time came. 

When they arrived at a door— after at least 5 minutes of diligent acrobatics planned carefully to avoid any uninvited shadow guests— Goro found himself thankful that nobody had tried to start small talk, but the consuming silence had also left no space to make any questions. Of course Goro would rather not ask anything at all— it had been long ago when he learned that more often than not people are cruel to those who question the world— but it was impossible to advance with this thick uncertainty scented like cinnamon, cardamom, clove and gingerbread that made it impossible to even breathe. He decided to take an innocent hold of Joker’s leather sleeve and push him back to somewhere somewhat more private while the cognitive double concentrated on the keyring that most definitely contained the key to the room they had arrived in front of, hopefully out of earshot. 

“Joker, this isn’t funny.” Conveyed the whole range of emotions Goro was feeling at the moment.

“I never laughed.” Joker responded irreverently, but decided to fix his insult when he saw Goro’s enraged expression “And he was the only one who would talk to me. He’ll be gone and you’ll never see him again, I promise.” 

Goro read on Joker’s eyes the mute understanding they always shared, how the composition of the sentence also expressed ‘Sae knows you’d betray her in a heartbeat for a Phantom Thief or a boy your age’ and all that that implied, or maybe ‘Sae doesn’t think you can refuse orders within the precinct’. Whichever let Goro sleep at night. 

Goro gave him a distrustful look while Goro finished his quest for the key needed to enter. 

“It’s open.” He smiled, like a punch to Goro’s gut. “Please, come on in.” He said once again, so similar to last time that Goro feared that under all the elegance in the suit and Christmas cheer he was a sort of sci-fi cyborg, that Sae thought of him as a Christmas robot. Which would have been fun and ironic, maybe even the image he was going for, but Goro wanted to expect better of the cognition of him on Sae’s mind. 

Not much time to think about that, because Joker started to move and Goro’s hand, still holding the discreet sleeve, moved alongside him and carried Goro’s whole body with it like a startled mannequin. Goro followed along out of how accustomed he was to following Joker around palaces like all his other friends did, to let him take the lead even when he was jumping off a bridge. The kind of trust that sickened Goro and forced him to constantly remind himself not to fall too deep within Ren’s orbit, which seemed to attract any conscientious being into putting their life into his red-handed gloves.

It bothered him, how natural it came for Ren and how artificial his own was. Goro thought once again about the possibly-robot version of himself holding the door and how Sae wouldn’t be completely off on his artificiality, it was just hard to look at. Ren, on his part, just sighed at Goro’s eternal ability to not fall prey to his own schemes, always one step ahead, always in front, and how that made it so difficult to communicate sometimes. 

They were behind the door before Goro could process that maybe the origin of his own pathos was either his lack of trust in others who made him unable to feel real human connections or the single semi-sincere human connection known as Ren, maybe neither of those, just his father. Whatever it was, it would be gone before January. 

It was as dark as his soul or Joker’s leather jacket when they entered— Goro thought, dramatically— and the last thing they heard before it went completely black was the once again sweet “Don’t forget to have fun!” From the copy who Goro could swear gave them a flirtatious wink before closing the door on them just from the tone he used. Great. Alone in the dark with Joker was a place he definitely expected to be at some point in his life but definitely not with Joker’s heartbeat going above zero beats per second. 

Joker thought the same, too, but instead of no heartbeat he imagined neither of them would be wearing pants in the aforementioned situation, but that was another, more chimeric train of thought that Ren was not ready to acknowledge just yet or, at least, not until Goro thought about it and expressed his active interest first. Baby steps. First: the Christmas thing, then the rest would come naturally, possibly in the eight or ninth try. 

Darkness, but only momentarily. God is a shout on the street, Goro thought, a shout that screams: 

“MERRY CHRISTMAS!” 

Bang! 

“Crow!” 

“It startled me!” 

The very traumatized shadow bartender backed off slowly, careful not to startle back the trigger happy maniac again; shadow playboy bunnies and bouncers all stayed quiet watching Goro’s gun fuming from that last shot, which brought no comfort to Goro at all. Being surrounded by shadows, not the sincerely beautiful and cheery Christmas decorations that adorned the room, that is, not even the cute little Christmas outfits the shadows were wearing for the occasion. 

The shadowy whispers of ‘I knew this wasn’t a good idea’ and ‘You don’t say’ ironically were shushed on Goro’s ears by Ren speaking directly to him “It’s the catering, they’re just here to help.” 

“Are you mental?” Goro deadpanned, murder in his eyes, thinking that even through killing Ren on Sae’s palace wasn’t part of the original plan, a change could be arranged, just this once, make it look like an accident, like he had been mauled to death by the shadows he himself decided to trap himself with. Never mind the shadows were all tame and very underleveled compared to them both, never mind that nobody would believe him. He held his gun tighter.

I’ve been repeating the same year time and time again just waiting to find an timeline where I get to be happy together with my murderer, so yes, thanks for asking “I may be.” 

“That’s comforting.” 

“Will you—”  and what was I even thinking, this was clearly a bad idea. Is there any way to save this? There isn’t, obviously, but I can…  “Do you want to open your present?” 

Goro’s murderer expression changed to one of surprise at the cute box being offered to him, then to confusion, Ren saw despair, then the five stages of grief and some more than Ren could only see on his eyes. Goro chuckled disturbingly not maniacally, could even be called sincere, after acceptance, and Ren thought briefly that being mental could be contagious “Aren’t we supposed to wait until tomorrow, though?” 

“Some countries open the presents in the middle of the night.” Ren sounded so sad and defeated saying that, like a disgraced puppy kicked by his master behind his mask, it made Goro’s bright bird eyes shine even brighter. 

“But we aren’t in any of those countries, are we?” He teased with a sing-song crow voice that mocked Ren’s sad expression.

“...I suppose not.” Ren said, finally sure that the plan had been a complete failure, that maybe next time line he would get it for sure, or that maybe November just wasn’t made for Christmas parties. 

That was, of course, until Goro full on laughed. 

“You are—” Goro said, absolutely amused in the sense of what Ren could only describe as a Christmas miracle, taking the box away from Ren’s hands and taking out one of his own in turn “so interesting.” 

Such a quick change in tone caught Ren off ward, which made Goro laugh even more and subsequently made Ren deduce that maybe that had been the plan of the most unpredictable of his romantic interests. “Aren’t you mad at me?” He asked. 

“Oh, I am. Don’t doubt it.” Goro admitted, still a sweet yet melancholic smile on his face “but… this is nice, somewhat.” 

“Is it?” Ren, pretty sure Goro had gone a different type of crazy, less black-purple striped madness and more red-green-white, kinda like candy cane colored craziness. 

“When I was being thrown around from orphanage to orphanage—” Goro sat down in one of the two red velvet chairs next to the tree and classily accepted the Christmas martini a shadow still shaking with fear offered him “—well, some of them were catholic. I used to celebrate Christmas.” 

“Yeah?” Ren inquired, thinking that maybe he had stumbled upon a good memory. 

“Yes.” Goro took a sip “I hated it.” 

“Oh.”

“Don’t you hate it too? A celebration that is just a mix of other bastardized traditions made to indoctrinate pagans into the religion that was genociding their culture?” Goro looked at his glass fondly, deciding how much dominance of the conversation he could keep if he licked the colored sprinkles on the edge of his glass or if he cared about that at all “And don’t even get me started on the consumerism of it all, there are people out there who don’t know Father Christmas is more related to Odin than Coca-Cola. It’s distasteful.” 

Ren thought about it then decided that planning was worse, he crafted his Cheshire smile, the one that made Goro expect something painfully charming “Grinch.” 

“That is a bad movie and you know it.”

Ren got genuinely offended “It is not!” 

“Yes it is!” Goro said, defensive in a defenseless way that was so intimate to them both. “And you know what? The couples who cuddle to watch Christmas classics every year like it’s an obligation are the same people who individually stand exactly in the middle of electric escalators at malls.”

Ren could stand this affront against Christmas no longer “You are so full of shit.” then to actually wound him “You don’t know anything about good cinema.” 

“I do because I don’t watch any Christmas movies, ever. They’re dumb.” Goro sipped again, sucking slightly the sprinkles on the edge of the glass, they were sweet and tasty and Goro almost felt bad for the shadow he almost killed, just in case it was involved in the making of the sweet drink “Well… except for—” 

Ren smiled at him like he had just hit jackpot “I bet you unironically like the Star Wars Animated Christmas special.” 

Goro would take this disrespect no longer.

* * *

The essence of tired Christmas celebration imbued the air of the small room. The fake fireplace danced solemnly somnolent in its last hours of mortal life and as a tribute to the two figures sitting in front of it, as close to expiation as itself. Besides Goro rested a big box with “Roomba” written on its side and in Ren’s lap a copy of a book too pretentious to name and big enough to kill a sailor with one hit. 

The shadows had long left them alone when Ren realized that Goro would much rather have a homey Christmas than a fancy one, he quickly signaled the cognitive version of Goro— always standing on the outside, keeping Ren’s promise, watching, something akin to envious that people made of matter cannot begin to understand— to take it from there and the shadows were gone in a whim. They still kept the martinis and other liquors, next to the pastries and perfect Christmas dinner that they finished all on their own. Goro had never looked more beautiful than when, under the red lights, he said playfully and already a little tipsy “Do you want some?” giving Ren a sip of his own glass. Conversation flowed so nicely over the turkey and the cookies, from orphanages to small towns to traditions to religion to mythology and, of course, random trivia about chess games and detective investigations. It had flowed so well it transferred them to the velvet couch in front of the fireplace where they had opened the presents and confessed their shy thank yous to each other. 

Goro wasn’t asleep, Ren was aware, petting the Roomba box that Ren knew he would like from a passing conversation in a previous timeline. It seemed so transient and yet Ren held it close next to his own eternity to never forget what Goro Akechi liked with the dim hope that he could add “Ren Amamiya” to that list, eventually. 

Maybe he could gift himself the next time they did this, though some other strings would need to be moved. Admittedly, the same strings that positioned Goro next to Ren in this cozy Christmas night, but tighter, maybe more cheerful, and definitely with more planning ahead. 

“You’re thinking very loudly.” Goro grumbled in his no-sleep, teasing again. “Your silence is so loud, I can’t hear myself sleep.”

“You weren’t sleeping, you dick.” Ren said “You wouldn’t.” 

“Of course not, there is a limit to how much we can trust each other.” More like a ceiling, a ceiling Ren was planning to break eventually like numerous other ceilings in his newly long immortal life. They’d get there “You do know this is a small break in a much bigger operation.”

“I am aware.” He said in the saddest voice he had heard “Then we’ll go back to being…” he trailed off, too much, too similar to the sound of the sea under his feet. 

Goro even felt a little bad “It’s okay if it’s this once, I think.” It disgusted him how much he wanted to cheer Ren up, how deep he was in his web of acquaintances and overly conscious of the fact that it would only make it harder to break free when Ren wasn’t there to web anymore. Goro reached for his second box “Here, have one.” 

“Coffee flavored chocolate?” Ren knew before the candy even reached his lips “How did you even get this?” 

“You asked for it in the first place!” Goro was annoyed in the tired way of not wanting to argue anymore, which was a very serious deal that Ren knew he must treasure “... I asked Sae-san where I could get some, she knew a guy.” 

“So it is possible that that guy is here?” Ren asked munching on the treat. 

Goro was weirdly attentive of Ren’s soft lips “Very much so, if the metaverse decides to be consistent.” 

“So we could possibly get an unlimited supply of fancy foreign chocolate if we wanted to?” 

“It is within the realm of possibility, yes.” 

Ren kept a puppy eyed silence for a second, begging mutely for a second treat that Goro offered with a resigned sigh “We should go look for him, make it a tradition.” 

“To eat fancy chocolate?”

“Yeah, it beats eating grapes or drinking champagne.” 

“Ren, that’s not—” Goro’s smile died on his face “ We can’t. The palace will be gone in a few days”  you know this, you are torturing me, you are a monster and I will kill you. 

I’m so sorry. 

“It doesn’t have to be cognitive chocolate, it’s just cheaper that way.” He got closer to Goro, not really knowing why, felt the faint smell of Christmas martini “If cognitive doesn’t work, store bought is fine.” 

Goro contained laughter and it only made the hole in his chest feel more oppressive “We can’t afford traditions.” 

“That’s fine, the pagans couldn’t afford them either and yet here we are.” 

“Are you saying we are pagans?” Goro thought of Loki, of Odin, of how it would be on the other side or somewhere else.

Are you having terrible comprehension on purpose? Ren didn’t say, instead “Yeah, we might be.”

I shot god in the face; pagan seems fair. 

“Uh…” He hesitated “Sounds rustic.”

Ren thought of himself “You like rustic.” 

Goro was thinking about Ren, too “I really do not.” 

“You like rustic aesthetic like a rich person, just the looks, but I’m true rustic,” Ah, yes, insinuating about Ren’s little countryside town, a true countryside boy. Goro lied to himself and thought of a witty  now I like it even less  “and you like me.” 

Goro’s blush couldn’t be seen under the dim light of the fireplace, but Ren could swear it was there hiding under his hushed voice “Do I, now?” 

“I hope so, otherwise all of this would have been for nothing.”

“Fair point.” 

A rustle in the ceiling startled Goro— his trigger finger ready to shoot before Ren could even process it— briefly before Ren held his shoulders softly to calm him down. Goro looked at the raven with big eyes before another wave of mute understanding in their silence.

He looked up, then back at Ren, completely unimpressed “Would you look at that. Mistletoe.” 

“I have no idea how that got here.” Ren lied, thinking that he should later kiss the cognitive Goro for being so compromised with his work. That would have been cruel thought, considering. Goro thought about shooting it before they went out, just because it was better at keeping promises than he was. 

“Lies.” Goro accused, but didn’t move when Ren got closer “You can’t do that, I’m tipsy.” 

“You present an excellent point.” Ren admitted “Do you want to go home now? I can call you a cab.” He half-joked, half-expected for Goro to make a move; an another inexplicable half of him genuinely wished to take Goro back, just to make sure he would be safe.

“You can’t,” Goro ignored his train of thought “but I can.” 

He got closer, and when Ren felt a soft breath tinted of absolutely not alcohol to be even half tipsy, he got even closer. 

“Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas.”

It tasted like mouth, martini and— Ren hoped, as Goro did, too— good luck. 

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for this same Fic: Honestly? I think after this day they made it, and if not, they have a whole life to go on. 
> 
> Well remember that I don’t speak English and I’m sorry for the troubles that may cause


End file.
